


Father Christmas

by sanguisuga



Series: Sang's Holiday Offerings [5]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuteness and fluff, Greg is the Grinchy one, M/M, Mycroft is surprisingly festive, Of course they get together by the end, do not copy to another site, in his understated way, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: The holidays tend to put Lestrade in a foul mood, but when Mycroft Holmes offers some unexpected hospitality, can he put all that aside for the chance that he's been waiting for?
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Sang's Holiday Offerings [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1220093
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67
Collections: Mystrade Holiday 2019





	Father Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Currently a WiP, but I'm hoping that enough interest will motivate me to finish it. Promises to be light and fluffy and stupidly cute - Hallmark Channel shite!
> 
> Please do comment, let me know what you think... 
> 
> *muah*

Greg grumbled his way to the café, barely even noticing the startled looks he was getting as he swerved around bell-ringers and people whose arms were overloaded with parcels wrapped in brightly-coloured paper. He slammed into the door with a bit more force than necessary, muttering insincere apologies to those nearby who had turned to stare at him with wide, anxious eyes.

He spotted Mycroft on the other side of the room as he stood in greeting, feeling a bit of relief just at the sight of him. Always cool, collected, and perfectly put together, Mycroft’s appearance usually restored a bit of order and sanity to Greg’s frazzled mind. He resisted his usual urge to pull him into a hug, shucking off his gloves and reaching out to grasp his outstretched hand instead.

“Good to see you, Mycroft. Been too long.”

Mycroft’s cheeks coloured slightly as he looked Greg up and down before resuming his seat. “It’s nice to see you again as well, Dectec-” He stopped himself as Greg shot him a look. “Greg. Do pardon my lapse.” Mycroft watched with a lifted brow as Greg wrestled with his overcoat, finally falling into the seat opposite him with a low groan. “I do hope you don’t mind, but I ordered for you when I received your text that you were running behind.”

Greg ran a hand through his hair as he leant back. “Ah, bless. Don’t mind at all. Always order the same, don’t I?” He looked up as the food arrived, surreptitiously checking that the tomatoes had been left off his sandwich, but of course they had been. Mycroft wasn't likely to forget such a detail. 

Mycroft cleared his throat as he poked at his salad, spearing a piece of grilled chicken. “You seem a bit more - stressed than usual. Has Sherlock been a nuisance?”

Greg shook his head as he chewed. “Nah, haven’t heard hide nor hair in about a fortnight. It’s the bloody season.” He scowled and gesticulated wildly at the garish trimmings draped over the walls. “All this... Shite! People out there smiling and playing nice and ‘Happy Christmas, sir,’ ‘Have a jolly holiday, sir,’ but then they go home and start smacking their families around.” Greg leant forward emphatically. “Do you even know how many DV calls we get at this time of year? And how many end up on my patch because things have gone too far? Runs us bloody ragged just trying to keep up.” He stared down at his food gloomily. “Peace and goodwill toward men, my lily-white arse.” 

“Greg...”

Greg looked up, feeling a swirl of anxiety as he noted the clear distress in Mycroft’s face. “Oh Christ, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to drag you down with me.” He sighed heavily, trying on a half-hearted smile as Mycroft’s grey eyes searched his face. “I’m just a bit knackered, to be honest. I’ll be fine once I get the chance to lay my head down for a bit.”

Mycroft took in a deep breath, hesitating over his words. Greg tilted his head as he saw an uncharacteristic doubt cross over those fine patrician features, but then Mycroft nodded as he seemed to reach some sort of momentous decision. 

“Greg, I... That is... Would you like to come spend Christmas weekend with me?” Mycroft’s fingers tangled together as Greg’s mouth dropped open. “I have a cottage - nothing extravagant, but there’s an extra room, and I think... I think it may do you good to get out of the city for a few days, so you can get the rest you need, and perhaps - a fresh perspective?”

Greg eyed him from across the table, reflecting that he hadn’t ever seen Mycroft’s cheeks turn quite that fetching shade of pink before. Mycroft dropped his gaze, seeming to shrink into himself in slight mortification. Greg hastily blurted out a “Yes,” before he had the chance to rescind his offer. “That’s extremely generous, Mycroft. I’d love to. But you don’t spend it with family?”

Mycroft shrugged, that same delicate pink spreading to the tips of his ears. “Our parents are gone, and my brother is happily forging new traditions. There are extended relations, cousins and the like, but we never put much stock in such distant familial connections.” His eyelashes swept over his cheeks as he picked up his fork and started rummaging through his salad again. “It’s just me, I’m afraid.”

Greg swallowed hard, his stomach suddenly fluttering with nervous excitement. “Sounds perfect.” He smiled as encouragingly as he could when Mycroft looked up, his grey eyes wide in surprise. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Not at all.” Mycroft’s lips twitched up into a shy smile. “I’ll text you the details.”

From there they settled into their usual conversation, catching up on the past month or so of their respective lives in between bites of lunch. When they said goodbye to each other on the pavement outside the café, Greg impulsively gave in to his somewhat questionable instincts, drawing Mycroft into a quick but thorough hug. 

“See you soon.” Mycroft hummed his acknowledgement, awkwardly giving Greg a pat on the back as he withdrew. Greg turned with a smile on his lips only to have it immediately turn down into an impressive frown as someone who was far too occupied with their mobile collided with him. “Watch where you’re going, for chrissakes!”

He stomped his way down the street, fairly certain that Mycroft’s sharp eyes were on him until he vanished around the corner.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications and miscellany from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. My activity there has slowed considerably since the Great Purge, but I also set up another tumblr just for notifications and other writerly stuff at 'sanguisugaao3.tumblr.com'.
> 
> I seem to be mostly active on twitter now, although the system confuses me and I really don't post much. But still, if you'd like to follow, I'm @sanguisugaao3 there!
> 
> (I'm also over on Pillowfort.io if anyone out there is giving them a shot - as 'sanguisuga'. Same handle on Dreamwidth, but I must confess that I don't do much on either site.)


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